Questions
by OfficerKennedy
Summary: A night in with Leon, Chris and an annoying magazine quiz!


Questions

For a straight-talking, no nonsense, man-of-the-law, Leon can be so full of crap sometimes.

It's one of those rare, and dare I say lovely, nights where neither of us is off in some foreign country fighting bad guys. Nobody wants me to shoot a bio-organic weapon and no spoilt bitch wants him to paint her nails or whatever it is Ashley Graham demands of my boyfriend. No, we've actually both managed to somehow be on the couch at the same time. Now this opens up all kinds of possibilities, most of which you've find conveniently located within the pages of the Karma Sutra. But does my boyfriend want to go for any of this? Of course he doesn't! He'd much rather sit with his feet up, drinking his stupid herbal tea and reading a stupid magazine. I wouldn't mind so much if he kept his stupid magazine to his self but no such luck there.

"Question number one. Which three words best describe your partner"? He's looking up at me, expectantly with those sexy eyes of his. I really can't be bothered with this crap but he's seconds away from bringing out the infamous Kennedy Death Glare so I suppose I should answer.

"E-fucking-normous" I answer smugly.

"Be serious"! He snaps with a roll of his eyes. "Besides, I asked you for three words and you gave me two rather badly pasted together"

I sigh. I was being serious. I am absolutely fucking enormous. There's really no better way to describe it. But, fair play to him, he asked for three words.

"Ok. Totally fucking enormous"

"That's your answer"? He seems to be daring me to say yes, judging by the look of his face. Well I'm Chris Redfield and I've never been one to back down from a dare. I nod at him and he gets that cute little wrinkle between his eyebrows as his frown deepens. He thinks I'm just messing about but honestly, I'm not doing this intentionally. I really really am fucking enormous and he knows it.

"Number two" He's determined to carry on with this. "Which three words best describe your partner"?

"Leon Scott Kennedy" He opens his mouth to protest but I get in there quickly and stop him. "That was three words this time and totally coherent"!

"So that's it"? He sniffs. "I ask for three, small, uncomplicated words and all you can tell me is my name"? He snorts this time. "How the hell you started the BSAA I'll never know"

"Well what the fuck am I supposed to say"? I protest.

"I don't know! Maybe something about how strong I am? I'm brave, smart, funny, interesting, skilled…"

"That's like six words" I point out. Unwisely.

"Then pick three"! He insists like it's the most obvious thing in the world. I don't need to be told that and anyway, I could pick plenty more than three! Control-freak, stubborn, bossy, annoying, party pooper…

"Leon Scott Kennedy" I repeat because I know how good he is at hand to hand combat and I really don't wanna be on the receiving end of one of his legendary nerve pinches.

"Well thanks Chris" He mutters sarcastically. "That's just great" He shakes his head but still seems lost in the magazine page. See? Stubborn! He's probably only carrying on with the stupid quiz because he knows I'm trying to get him to stop.

"Three. What's your best feature"?

"Well I should think that should be totally obvious" I grin at him. "And I believe we covered that in question number one"

"Shut up" He commands. "I'll pick. Your hair" He says with an air of finality which means, in his mind at least, that's an end to the matter.

"My hair"? It's my turn to snort now. "Have you not seen my enormous cock! If you've forgotten what it looks like I'm more than willing to give you a reminder" I say, teasing him by playing with the waistband of my sweats. He studiously ignores that and carries on with his god-damn relentless line of questioning. Pfft. Once a cop, always a cop.

"Four. What's your partner's best feature"?

Christ how I fucking hate stupid magazine quizzes! How in the name of all that is holy am I supposed to answer a question like that? It seems like its been written purposefully to trip me up! There's that expectant look again so I suppose I best come up with an answer. I pretend to mull it over some more before I finally speak.

"I think I'm gonna have to ask the audience"

"You're not even trying" He replies, wounded. Well, it's his fault for starting the stupid quiz anyway. I mean really, who would choose reading some boring-ass questions out over hot sweaty man sex with someone who's fucking enormous?

"You make awesome fries"

"Chris"! He scolds, like I'm some naughty child.

"Well, what do you want me say then"? I'm on the verge of sulking now which, given the right mood, he actually finds quite adorable. Something tells me he's not in that mood now. It probably has something to do with that vein that's starting to stand out on his pale forehead. "Perhaps your creamy white skin? Your perfect hair that always seems to smell like fruit"?

"You know Chris" He doesn't sound quite so pissed off now. "I could name at least five people that would be able to tell you my best feature. Do you know how many offers I get on a daily basis"?

"Nice" I say, nodding with what I hope is an impressed expression on my face because I think that's what he wants to see. He probably actually does get a hell of a lot of offers. He's nowhere near as hot as me but he's no mirror buster.

"I just told you that loads of other people think I'm attractive and all you can say is 'nice'"? He spits, incredulous. "Could you just try to at least sound a bit passionate and jealous"? He shakes his head. "Whatever. You're just trying to distract me. So, come on, my best feature"

"Your lips" I say the first thing that comes into my head and surprisingly he looks gratified. And here I was worrying that I was clutching at straws. He's starting to look really happy until something dawns on him. You see, Leon's pretty into how he looks. He's a total perfectionist when it comes to his clothes and his hair. When it comes to his appearance, he's not very good at taking criticism be it real or imagined.

"So what the fuck is wrong with the rest of me then"? He challenges. See what I mean?

"Nothing! Christ, just ask me the next one"

"You've never mentioned my lips before" He continues. It's funny, only seconds ago he was whinging about me trying to distract him and now he's distracting himself. "Are you trying to somehow imply that the rest of me has something wrong with it"?

"No" I reply, wondering how someone who seems so level-headed can suddenly descend into the realms of the ridiculous over some stupid set of questions printed in some stupid magazine. He throws it down. It would've been better if he'd thrown it in the bin but I'm certainly not gonna pick holes now.

"Fuck it. It's a stupid quiz anyway" He mutters, clamping his arms across his chest. Christ, I could kiss him! He's finally beginning to talk sense. "Although actually, the next question was pretty damn appropriate" He leans over and reads it out loud. "Five. What is your partner's most annoying habit. Do you have any idea what it is that annoys me about you Chris"?

"I'll have to say my modesty"

"No. It's the fact that even though we both have busy jobs that require a lot of physical and mental exertion, I don't fall asleep in the middle of sex. Whereas you, Mr Fucking Lover-Lover, do. That" He nods his head. "Is your most annoying habit"

"What"? I don't even remember falling asleep during sex once, let alone enough for it to become a habit. I'm starting to think that during his last mission, he took a serious blow to the head.

"Oh, of course you don't remember what I'm talking about" He says snippily. "I'll remind you shall I? Last week, after that Jill and Carlos' engagement party? We were both pretty drunk but you insisted on having your Leon Loving! You fucking fell asleep when we were still doing it"!

I know I really really shouldn't but I can't help it. I have to laugh.

"Leon Loving? I really don't remember ever calling it that" My sniggering is making him more and more angry. "I think, Agent Honey-Bunch, you're just making this up to make me look bad"

"You fucking said it"! He replies adamantly, so annoyed that he doesn't even correct me on the Agent HB thing, which I know he really can't stand.

"Maybe it was some other guy? One of your daily offers who loves your creamy white skin and fruity hair"? I counter.

"Just get the hell out" He says, nodding towards the door. Oh, so we're doing that again. Occasionally, on those rare occasions that we get into a big argument, he'll tell me to leave his apartment. That he'd have no trouble finding someone who actually respects him. That if I don't haul ass out of his property he'll call his old cop buddies (of which he has none because, let's face it, he was only a cop for a day and that was in a city full of zombies and you'd have to be seriously weird to want them to be your buddy) and I'll be left destitute on the streets.

Usually I don't argue and spend the night on Brad's couch having been fed and watered by his obliging wife. Leon will always come and pick me up in the morning and remind me that I'm on my absolute and total final warning. Tonight though, I really can't be bothered going all the way to Brad's place. Plus, I think he has Kevin Ryman staying with him at the moment and if there's one person who really gets my goat, it's Kevin Fucking Ryman and his stupid floppy hair.

"Y'know Leon, I can't take all the blame. You have your bad points too" I point out, totally fairly because if he chose to continue reading the quiz, that was the next question.

"Like what"? His face is all steely and cold now. But hell, he always manages to win our arguments with his stupid reasoning and his even more stupid logic. It's about time I took one home for the team.

"How about your weirdo obsession with keeping this place clean"? I say, gesturing around the apartment with its polished floorboards and immaculate surfaces.

"That's only because you seem more accustomed to living in a dump"! He shoots back. "I saw your old place Chris and it was one infestation away from becoming a certified biohazard"!

"Well how about last month then? Remember? I'd just got back from Europe and you were so god damn pleased to see me you ripped my pants off and started jerking me off in the kitchen? You made me come in the fucking sink! You know how hard it was to get my cock in the sink? I nearly tipped over backwards from the weight distribution"!

"I knew you were coming home so I'd spent my day off cleaning that god damn kitchen for you! I didn't want to mess it up with spunk everywhere"!

"Yeah and then while you still had one hand wrapped around me, you used the other to turn on the tap! Whinging about dried spunk in the sink! If that's not a weirdo obsession then I don't know what is! Hell, you were still wearing your stupid rubber gloves that you wear for cleaning"

"You're just making shit up now" Leon replies derisively. "Just because you can't stand to lose and argument. I was not wearing my rubber gloves"

"Well something felt really strange and rough. I guess it must've been your pale creamy skin or whatever" I'm losing now, I can tell but I'm Chris Redfield and I never go down without a fight.

"Fuck you"

Without another word, he gets up and stomps off to the kitchen. I hear him yank open the fridge, pull something out and then slam it again, hard. I sigh deeply and realise that in the middle of going down fighting, I probably hurt his feelings. Something I never intend to do and hate doing when I do it. Time to pull out the Redfield charm which usually involves admitting that yeah, I guess I was a bit harsh and reaffirming the fact that despite his insistence at doing stupid quizzes from stupid girly magazines, I actually love him.

"Hey Agent Honey-"

"Fuck off" He snarls. He's at the sink, probably dealing with the dirty dishes left over from the meal he'd cooked us. He doesn't even look up as he speaks "I told you to get out"

"Brad's got Kevin Ryman round"

He turns around and considers. He knows just how much I hate Kevin Fucking Ryman and I guess he's considering whether or not he hates me enough to inflict Kevin Fucking Ryman's company on me.

"Six. What is your partner's most annoying habit"? I read, holding up the magazine that I grabbed from the coffee table. "What is there not to love about you"? I take him in my arms and give him a tender kiss. He doesn't karate chop me in the windpipe so it looks like all is forgiven. He kisses me back and his hands start to snake downwards towards the waistband of my sweats. "Leon"?

"Yes"?

"Can you take the rubber gloves off this time"?

THE END.


End file.
